


Need you now

by Zozaaaa



Category: Hat Films - Fandom, Yogscast
Genre: M/M, its rated mature for dark themes, like symptoms of depression and mentions of alcohol and stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 11:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4604247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zozaaaa/pseuds/Zozaaaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4LMgO4JyBp4</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need you now

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm meant to be writing the Truth or Dare fic (I've made a start on the new chapter) but I had a real urge to write from this prompt an anon sent

Smith is slouched on his sofa, whiskey bottle in one hand, the tv remote in the other. His eyes are all puffed up and red from crying, although he can’t tell if it’s partly due to the alcohol. He takes swig from the bottle, feels the warm liquid burn his throat, and then finishes the rest. The bottle slips out of his hand and lands on the floor, although thankfully it didn’t smash.

He flicks through the different channels, in a desperate attempt to comfort himself, but nothing hurts as much as being alone. Even alcohol can’t fix some things. Smith’s eyes glanced at the clock. Quarter past 1 in the morning. Dismissing the time, he goes back to the tv. Then his eyes glance at his phone. Should he? Probably not. He went back to watching the tv. But his eyes kept glancing over at his mobile on the arm of the sofa.

Hesitantly, he picked it up and opened up his contact list, pressing Ross’ name. His finger hovered above the call button knowing he would be asleep. He really shouldn’t. Just because he thought about him a lot didn’t give him the right to call him at this stupid hour. He often wondered if Ross thought of him, especially when he was drunk. His finger pressed call.

He never got anxious about phone calls, but right now his heart was beating out his chest. The phone kept ringing, and Smith was about to decline the call but surprising a small voice appeared on the other end before it reached voicemail.

“Hullo? Who’s this?” Ross blinked through the darkness in his room. Who would call him at this ridiculous time?

“It’s me….Smith” He almost whispered,tears brimming in his eyes.

“Smith? You don’t sound too good, what’s wrong? Do you want me to come over?” Ross got out of bed to grab a tshirt and some jeans so he could drive over to Smith.

“...I- I need you.” Smith’s voice wobbled as tears cascaded down his cheeks. Ross began thinking something terrible had happened.

“Ok, just hold on in there, I’ll be over in 5. Stay right where you are.” And then he hung up,

5 minutes seemed like 5 hours to Smith. He just wanted company. Company from just Ross. He lugged himself off the sofa and staggered over to his cupboard to grab his last bottle of whiskey, spilling some as he sat back on the sofa.

The warm liquid burned his throat again, although it’s not like he minded. He wanted to feel the pain in his hoarse throat. Pain made him feel human again, he didn’t feel as empty when pain was a residence in his body.

Ross arrived a few minutes later - using the spare key Smith had given him when he’d first moved here practically breaking the door down as he ran inside.

“Smith! Oh god, are you alright?” Ross cautiously approached his friend, fighting back the tears from the state he was in. 

Smith looked horrific. The bags under his eyes were dark and hollow, his hair completely unruly and looking unkempt. Even his personality had completely changed, instead of being all bubbly like he used to be, he was mostly quiet and introverted. Ross cursed at himself for not spotting something sooner. He approached the sofa.

But before Ross could even speak to him, Smith just broke down into tears, clamping his free hand over his eyes as if he could protect Ross.

“Smith- please, what’s wrong?” Ross took the whiskey bottle from Smith’s grasp and placed it on the kitchen worktop, returning to sit next to him on the sofa. “Why did you say you needed me? You look terrible.”

Smith didn’t know where to start. He couldn’t even speak. Not even when Ross put his hand on his shoulder and shook him slightly.

“Smith? Please. I’m so worried about you, you’ve not been yourself lately… and now this. Do you want me to call Trott over as well?”

“NO!” Smith roared, shocked at how hurtful his own voice sounded. “I just want you.” He added in a small whisper, his head hung in his hands. “I want you..” His voice trailed off into silence.

Biting his lip, Ross edged closer and put his arm around Smith’s back, pulling him close into his waist. Smith was muttering ‘I’m fine’ over and over again underneath his breath.

“I’m here. I won’t leave your side, I promise. You’re going to be okay Smith, I’ll take care of you.”

“I’m so fucking lonely, Ross.” Smith suddenly spoke, forcing himself to look Ross in the eye. Ross looked scared, and Smith couldn’t help but blame himself for that. Instead of elaborating any further, he buried his head into Ross' shoulder and sobbed his heart out.

Ross leaned into Smith and brought his other arm around him, his fingers playing with Smith’s hair.

“It’s okay, you’re okay, I’ve got you.” Ross whispered in Smith’s ear, before pulling out of the hug. “Now what do you say about getting some rest?”

Looking sullen, Smith nodded at the floor and somehow managed to pull himself up off the sofa and make it to the bed still in one piece.

He didn’t even bother removing his clothes, he just clambered straight in the bed under the quilt and shut his eyes.

Ross stood and watched him for a few minutes before sitting down on the end of the bed, the mattress groaning underneath his added weight. Gingerly, he reached out his arm to touch Smith’s hand that was resting at his side. Ross’ hands stroked from Smith’s fingers to his wrist before giving his hand a squeeze as he got up to leave Smith’s house. He smiled to himself, looked back one final time at Smith before he left the house.

Smith awoke the next morning with a pounding headache. Everything hurt in his body he didn’t want to move. He noticed a note on his bedside cabinet, took it into his hands and read the message.

It was from Ross. Smith felt so bad for making Ross so worried like this, it’s not like he was purposely trying to be this miserable… he just couldn’t find happiness. He should probably call Ross now.

“Hello? Smith? How are you feeling?” Ross asked, evidence of worry from last night still remained in his voice. Smith thought about lying to him, but that wouldn’t ever get him anywhere.

“Like shit. Everything hurts so much, my eyes, my head, my arms, my heart. Everything, Ross. Thanks for coming last night.” He managed, his voice deep from sleep.

“Look, don’t come into work today, rest up and drink plenty of water. I’ll be over later to check on you.”

“Ok. Bye Ross.” 

“Bye Smith.”

“I love you.” Smith mumbled, before realising what he actually said. His face went bright red and he clapped a hand over his own mouth.

“... I love you too, Smith. See you later.” 

Ross looked out the window and chuckled to himself, a grin spreading up his face. He couldn’t believe either of them had just said that. An indescribable feeling washed over him and he muttered to himself:

“I love you, Smith. I really do.”


End file.
